The Follower's War
by Maira Blue
Summary: AU: When Matt and Near are brought to Las Vegas to catch Mello, B's mysterious accomplice, there are far more questions than answers. Why was Mello working with B, who's trying to kill him, and could Matt really fall for a criminal? MattxMello, BxMello
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Welcome to my first Death Note story! I hope you enjoy it.

I'm bending the timeline a little here. In canon, Mello and Matt were only about twelve when B became a serial killer, but I'm making them a few years older. Near is sixteen and Matt is seventeen. Also, this takes place six months after B's arrest.

Disclaimer: If I owned Death Note, L, Mello, Matt, and B would _never _have died - but they also wouldn't have existed in the first place, because I could never create such amazing characters. I'm merely playing with them.

_The Follower's War_

_Chapter One_

"…A warehouse in North Las Vegas exploded at about two thirty this morning. Seven men were killed in the blast. All are known criminals believed to be connected to the mafia. Traces of high grade explosives were found at the scene. The police are still investigating, but say that so far they have no leads…"

"A man was found dead in a motel room in Enterprise…"

"Two of Las Vegas's most notorious drug dealers were both killed last night. Both have been wanted by the police for several years. One, Gabriel Carussa, was wanted for two murders in Las Vegas. Police say he headed a marijuana smuggling operation between Juarez, Mexico and El Paso, Texas for three years before forensic evidence connected him to the murders of five rival gang members, and he fled to Vegas, where he killed two men last month. He was shot this morning at a house in Spring Valley. Police found thousands of dollars worth of drugs inside. The other man, Christopher DiNardo, was Carussa's biggest rival in the Las Vegas drug trade. DiNardo was a known member of the mob, and was found dead in his house on the north shore of Lake Mead. His security system wasn't triggered, and there were no signs of a struggle. All evidence points to poison…"

"…Police say the bank robbery was done by professionals… The cameras stopped working exactly twenty seconds before the robbers entered and came back on twenty seconds after they exited. None of the people in the bank could give a clear description of the perpetrators, who got away with over fifteen thousand dollars…"

Matt sighed, listening to the swirl of voices. All four videos were playing on different televisions set up in a semi-circle. Different reporters, different locations, different dates. The oldest, the report about the explosion, was from almost six months ago; the newest, the bank robbery, had taken place just yesterday. And according to L, all of these crimes were connected somehow.

"So far, we only have one image of the suspect," said the detective, who was crouching in an armchair next to Matt's own, biting his thumb as he stared at the televisions. Near sat on the floor in front of them, surrounded by toy robots.

L picked up a TV remote and quickly pressed several buttons. Three of the televisions went black. The fourth paused, and then a new video began to roll. The footage was black and white, and very blurry. A recording from a cheap surveillance camera, Matt guessed. The image was of an ordinary looking street. People of all ages and sizes walked up and down the rather crowded sidewalk. L pressed more buttons, zooming in on two people making their way through the throng, their backs to the camera. The taller of the two was wearing baggy jeans and a black shirt. He was thin and lanky, and would have been tall if it wasn't for his pronounced slouch.

_B. _

Matt knew that if the man turned around, they'd see he had the same large, dark eyes as L, ringed with identical dark circles. The only difference was that L's eyes were dark gray, whereas B's were a deep, bloody red. That was really the only physical distinction between the world's greatest detective and his murderous former heir. Otherwise, they easy could have passed as twins - similar faces, the same wild black hair and pale skin, hell, even the same posture…

But right now, B wasn't the problem. He was serving a life sentence in California's most heavily fortified maximum security prison. It was the slender figure walking beside him in the video that they were here to investigate.

Matt pushed his goggles up onto his forehead to get a better look, but there wasn't really much to see. The awful video quality made it impossible to make out any distinguishing features; plus, both of them were still walking away from the camera. B's companion had a bob of light-colored hair, and was dressed in a leather jacket and what looked like leather pants as well.

The top of the blonde's head came up to the serial killer's shoulder. That, combined with the tight outfit, surely meant…

"A _girl_?"

"I believe so, yes," said L.

The two criminals walked off screen, and the video started again from the beginning. Matt stared. It was so _weird.._. Who'd have thought B hung out with a blonde chick who dressed in leather?

L paused the video. "I've tracked down several of B's associates from his time in Los Angeles and had them interrogated," he explained. "I didn't suspect he had an accomplice until many of them mentioned spotting him with a blonde teenager. They could only give vague descriptions, having seen the teen from a distance. Since B's arrest, a person matching the same description has surfaced in the criminal underworld of Las Vegas."

"You mentioned earlier that B intended her to be an heir of some sort. Is she meant to be a criminal version of Matt and I?" said Near shrewdly, twirling a lock of his curly white hair as he looked up at L.

Their mentor nodded. "He most likely trained this girl to 'compete' against the two of you in some way - which is why I decided this would be an appropriate first case for you."

"So, it's like a test? You want to see if we can catch her, like you caught B?" Matt wasn't sure what to make of that idea.

L smiled. "Not a test, per se. There will be no grades or competition. This is just a practice case, a chance to gain experience. Watari has kept me updated on your studies and the progress you've made, and I think you're both ready to start taking on real cases rather than just learning from textbooks."

Near nodded once, picking up a robot. Feeling awkward, Matt stared at the TV screen to avoid looking at his companions.

He didn't belong here. He'd never wanted to become a detective. Never. Wammy's House was nice enough, for an orphanage, but Matt just wasn't interested in the other students' dog eat dog battle for rank. How he came to be second, when he hardly paid attention in class and never studied, was a mystery even to the redhead himself. Heck, he forgot to turn in his homework half the time. But when they took tests, the lessons he'd half listened to seemed to flood back, and the answers came easily. He'd rush through the exams and usually be the first one finished, eager to get back to his room and his video games as quickly as possible.

The whole purpose of Wammy's was to find and train L's successor. Technically, anyone in the top five was considered a candidate for the position, but in the end, it all came down to who was in first place.

And that was Near.

So why had L brought _Matt _to America too?

He was second. Just second. Nothing special - and he liked it that way. He'd never hidden the fact that he had no desire for L's title. It was well known at Wammy's, and he was sure Roger or Watari had told L. So what was the point of bringing Matt to Vegas with Near and continuing his detective training? Why not just train Near?

"Will you be assisting us with the investigation?" the younger boy asked their mentor.

L shook his head. "I'll let the two of you work it out, unless you get stuck. You're only discovering the suspect's identity and not apprehending her yourselves, so there will be no danger. I realize that as far as first cases go, this is a difficult one, but I'm confident you can handle it. I'll be leaving tomorrow morning for a case in San Francisco, but if you need my assistance at any time, do not hesitate to call. Watari and I can return here in less than two hours."

Matt blinked.

L was leaving them _alone _in _Vegas_?

Of course, when he thought about it, it really wasn't so surprising. Most teenagers might be tempted to sneak into nightclubs or casinos, but obviously L knew that he and Near wouldn't. Matt didn't give a damn about those sorts of places - he'd snuck out to clubs in London before and found them rather boring - and Near… well, the idea of _Near _in a bar was simply hilarious. And there was no way he could pass for legal age anyway. The albino had turned sixteen a month ago, but he still looked twelve. Matt, at seventeen, could _almost _pass for twenty-one. Or he liked to think so, anyway. He even had a fake ID.

"The two of you will be remaining at this hotel. This suite and the one directly across the hall have been reserved for you for the next two weeks. That can be extended if need be. Any food you need can be ordered from room service, and I will also be leaving a thousand dollars in cash for each of you in case of emergencies."

A _thousand?_

The redhead briefly pictured all the games he could buy with that, then quickly shoved the thought away. It was a nice daydream, to imagine himself walking into a game store with a handful of hundred dollar bills, but he wouldn't stab L in the back like that.

Matt turned when the hotel room door opened, while Near kept playing with his robots and L continued staring at the surveillance footage. Watari stepped inside, closing the door behind him with his foot, as his hands were busy holding a dessert tray. It was piled high with sweets: A large bowl of strawberry ice cream, a bottle of chocolate syrup, a plate of cookies, a pot of tea, and a mountain of sugar cubes.

"You've made the arrangements?" asked L, immediately reaching for a fork as Watari set down the tray in front of him.

The old man nodded. "Yes, everything is ready for tomorrow. We're leaving at seven." He smiled kindly at the two detectives-in-training. "You must be jetlagged. L, if you're done, don't you think it's time they got some rest? It's almost midnight."

"Yes. Near-kun, you may go," L picked up his fork and turned his large, dark eyes on Matt. "I would like to speak with you for a moment."

Near nodded and gathered up his toys, following Watari out of the room. Matt shifted uncomfortably as the door shut. He'd never been alone with L before.

"You seem to have doubts about this case," the man remarked, shoving a large forkful of cake in his mouth.

For a moment, Matt hesitated. "Not about the _case_, exactly," he said carefully. "It's just… I don't understand why I'm here. Near's in first place, and everyone knows I don't want to be a detective -"

"Matt-kun," L actually looked kind of amused. "It's true that I'm aware you have no intention of competing against Near for my position. It's also true that your hacking abilities are unparalleled, that you have good judgment, and that although you're rather antisocial, you still possess _basic _social skills, which Near and I do not. Roger has often lamented that if you paid as much attention to schoolwork as you do to gaming, you could probably surpass Near."

"But I don't _want _to surpass Near," said Matt.

"I know, and I will not force you to try. But you wanted to know why I chose to have you brought here. Those are my reasons." L took another bite of cake, chewed, swallowed, then said frankly, "This case is extremely important. It's possible Beyond told the girl about Wammy's House, which puts everyone connected to it in danger. There's no evidence that she assisted him with his murders, but the two of them were obviously in contact, and I suspect they may have committed crimes together which we don't yet know about. In the six months since his imprisonment, she's been busy - the ten murders, the bank robbery… I think they were all done to reach a goal. What that goal is, I don't yet know, but we need to apprehend her before she succeeds."

Matt frowned. "If it's so important, why leave it up to a couple of amateurs like Near and me? You could've handled it yourself and given us the San Francisco case."

"I could have," L agreed. "In fact, most people would probably say that would've been the smarter choice. But it seems appropriate somehow to let the two of you solve it. B took this girl under his wing as a direct parody of myself and _my _heirs. It was a challenge."

"A challenge to Near and I. Like you said earlier, he wanted us to compete with her, the same way he competed against you. It's like a game to them. Level one was him against you, and now level two is us against her. She's the final boss."

L smiled a little. "I see you were paying attention in your psychology classes."

He took another bite of cake, apparently not noticing Matt's slightly confused look. Was that _sarcasm?_ Or was he serious?

"When the case is complete, I expect a full report from both of you. A copy will be submitted to the police. No doubt she will end up in prison for life alongside Beyond," said the detective, words muffled by the dessert.

Matt wanted to ask how he could be so sure they'd be able to solve the case. After all, if this chick was trained by _B, _she had to be good. Scary good. Sure, L had caught B, but Matt and Near weren't L. They'd done practice cases at the House, but never anything close to this scale before.

What if they lost?

Sensing Matt's unease, L looked at his dessert tray thoughtfully for a moment. Then he picked up a cookie with his thumb and forefinger and held it out to the redhead.

"Cookie?"

* * *

A/N: I can totally picture L offering Matt a cookie. It would be so cute! And yes, the blonde 'girl' is Mello.

I wanted to make this chapter longer, but in about six hours, my parents and I are leaving for a two week road trip to Las Vegas (from Texas) and I really need to get some sleep first. I'm going to be working on this story during the trip, but I'm not sure when I'll be able to upload anything, which is why I wanted to post this now.

Thank you so much for reading! What do you think so far?


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Firstly, a huge thanks to everyone who reviewed, or added this story to their Favorites or Alerts lists! It's so encouraging to know there are people out there that are interested in this.

Vacation was pretty fun. I won't bore you with the details here, though you can check out my profile page if you want to know more. For now, enjoy chapter two!

Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note, only the plot of this fic. But I can dream…

_The Follower's War_

_Chapter Two_

The streets on either side of the Strip were lined with numerous parking garages, mostly behind the huge hotels and casinos. Along with the garages, these streets had a lot of small, mostly dodgy looking businesses. In between the buildings were a number of alleys, all of them different. Some were crowded with junk, others were empty. Some were dead ends. Some were used by homeless people, others by drug dealers.

It was within one of these alleys that Mello was lurking. Wearing large sunglasses, baggy, faded jeans and a gray hoodie, he was sure he wouldn't be recognized -- _if _L had managed to get a description of him, which Mello was sure he had. L wasn't one to be underestimated; that could be a fatal mistake. So, no matter how much he hated the disguise, it was a necessary precaution even though he didn't plan on being seen. He was here for reconnaissance, not confrontation.

Confrontation would come later.

Keeping his eyes on the parking garage across the street, Mello pulled a chocolate bar out of his coat pocket and unwrapped it, biting off a chunk with a loud snap. Smiling a little maliciously as the sweet melted in his mouth, he reviewed the progress he'd made so far.

L had arrived at the Venetian hotel at three PM two days ago in an antique black Bentley. Yesterday, at about ten PM, the car had left again. Mello followed it to the airport, and watched from afar as L's gray haired assistant -- Quillish Wammy, commonly known as Watari, according to B -- met two teenagers coming off a direct flight from London.

L's heirs. They were just as B had described them, right down to their outfits. Near, small, extremely pale, with pure white hair and large gray eyes, dressed in oversized white pajamas. Matt, lean and red-headed, in jeans and a striped shirt, with gloves, boots, and _goggles, _of all things. Mello followed them as Watari led them to the car and drove back to the Venetian. They'd arrived at about eleven, and Mello went back to his apartment, knowing that he'd have to return to the Venetian early in the morning. If his suspicions were correct, now that L's heirs had arrived, the detective himself would soon be leaving.

Now it was just past six AM, and Mello had been in the alley across from the garage for nearly half an hour. He was getting tired of waiting, but it had to be done. He was ninety-seven percent sure that L would leave this case to Near and Matt, but he had to confirm it before he could move forward with his plan.

At least there was no one around to bother him for being in the alley -- the first couple of hours after sunrise were the only part of the day that could be called 'quiet' in Vegas, when the tourists were passed out after a long night of partying and most of the locals hadn't woken up for work yet.

The blonde's eyes narrowed as he caught a glimpse of movement inside the dark garage. A car pulled up to the exit gate. The driver's window rolled down, and a hand appeared, holding up some kind of card to the garage attendant. She immediately hit the button to raise the gate, and the antique black Bentley emerged into the sunlight.

Mello smirked, taking another bite of chocolate as he watched it drive away. L, the world's greatest detective, was somewhere behind those dark windows, and he had absolutely no idea that the person he sought was less than fifty feet away.

Once the car was out of sight, Mello left the alley. His suspicions had been confirmed; his work here was done. L was leaving, entrusting the case to his successors, just as Mello had known he would. L and B basically played by the same rules, after all, and to know the habits of one meant you knew the other almost just as well.

Now he just needed to find out what rules the _successors _played by.

* * *

Matt wanted to slam his head against the wall.

Several hours of work had brought them no closer to their suspect. They'd spent most of the day researching the backgrounds of each of Blondie's victims, and hadn't learned anything new. So now he was sitting at a fancy wooden desk in Near's suite, with four computers open before him, each displaying a police report. It had taken less than five minutes for him to hack into the LVPD database, and apparently what they'd said on the news was true. The cops didn't have a single lead about any of the crimes B's heir had committed. There were no fingerprints, no footprints, no hair… _nothing. _It was like she didn't exist. The police weren't even aware that all ten murders and the bank robbery had been done by the same person. They thought all the crimes were separate incidents.

Matt knew the FBI would jump in immediately if they knew that L thought Blondie did all those things single-handedly. Murder wasn't unusual, and neither was bank robbery, but for a teenager to kill ten men and get away with fifteen grand… that was unheard of. The Bureau would begin a feverish manhunt. They had manpower and resources… L had used an FBI agent's help to track B down. Maybe Matt and Near could do the same?

But there was a _reason _the police hadn't realized all the crimes were connected, Matt reminded himself. By all appearances, there was no link between them. The only thing they had in common was the complete lack of evidence at each scene. There was no way to prove Blondie was involved at all.

He wondered how L had ever figured out the crimes were connected. If there was no evidence, and he only had a basic description of Blondie, how could he know for sure that she was a criminal at all? Just because a few people had spotted her with B didn't mean she was a serial murderer too. What if she was his girlfriend or something?

No. That wasn't it. It was _impossible _to picture B dating. So maybe she was a prostitute?

Matt immediately wished he hadn't had that thought. _B and a… oh, gross… no way. Just no way. B's creepy, but he's as emotionless as Near when it comes to things like lust. God, I need brain bleach…_

The redhead quickly turned his mind back to the problem at hand, trying to erase the mental image of B and Blondie hooking up. So she definitely wasn't a prostitute. B didn't exactly make friends, either, so the idea of her being an acquaintance was out, and he had no family.

If she wasn't a hooker, a friend, or a family member… what could she be _but _an accomplice?

_Congratulations, Matt, _he thought sarcastically. _You've just come up with a theory that you'd __**already been told. **__Awesome progress. The FBI would totally believe your __**flawless**__ line of reasoning._

And now he was back to wanting to slam his head into the wall.

"Has Matt found anything?" asked Near from across the room, where he was again seated on the floor. They (well, Matt) had brought the TVs from last night into the room and set them up, along with the television that was already in Near's suite and the one from Matt's. All six were now playing different surveillance footage from the streets near where B and his heir were spotted in the other video. Near watched them all, hoping to find where the two criminals had gone after the other camera lost sight of them.

"The police are even worse off than we are. And you'd think a law enforcement database would have better firewalls…" Matt trailed off, realizing he was getting distracted. Now wasn't the time to discuss cyber security systems. "Did _you _find anything?"

"No," said Near. Anyone who didn't know him would have thought he was as emotionless as ever, but Matt could tell he was extremely disappointed. "However, I've been attempting to compile a psychological profile of our suspect."

Matt frowned. Why hadn't he thought of that?

"I would like to hear your observations and compare them with my own," Near added. "What have you concluded so far?"

Matt hadn't concluded anything, other than that they might be in over their heads with this case.

"Uh, well… She's really smart, obviously. That's why B picked her to do whatever it is she's doing. She's got access to explosives and knows how to use them, and she's good with a gun. That DiNardo guy's security system was pretty advanced, and she got past it without setting it off, so either she cracked it, or he let her in. L seems to think she was part of that bank robbery in some way, so she might be after money. I'm sure you've already realized she must have some connection to the mafia, since eight of the ten people she's killed were members. That can't be a coincidence."

Near nodded. "Yes, I thought of that too. But this isn't psychological profiling, Matt. You're drawing good conclusions about how she works, but what we need is knowledge of how she _thinks."_

"I was getting to that," said the redhead, a little annoyed. "She's intelligent. She also probably works alone. The explosion could've been set up by one person -- in fact, those men probably didn't know the building was rigged. She shot that guy in the motel room in Enterprise, and killed two drug dealers… It's possible that she's become a serial killer, like B, but I don't think so. If I'm wrong, though… Serial killers are classified into two groups, organized and disorganized, and if she _is _a serial killer, she's in the disorganized category. Killing people of different ages, races, and backgrounds, in different ways… Like I said, though, I don't think she's a serial killer. She killed all those guys for a specific reason, and not as part of some random murder spree. L thinks B wanted her to compete against us, so we can assume that means she's a competitive person who B thought would be up to the job. In fact, he must have been sure she could beat us, or else why bother with her?"

Near twisted a lock of his hair thoughtfully. "An intelligent, competitive person, obviously familiar with committing crimes, who has a clear goal in mind and is working toward it," he summarized. "My conclusions exactly."

"Which is basically exactly what we already knew," Matt pointed out. "Face it, Near -- we don't know enough about her to come up with a profile that could actually _help _us."

Near's large gray eyes narrowed slightly. "Then what does Matt suggest we do?"

"I don't know. L thought we could figure this out somehow, but he didn't exactly give us much to work with. We know this chick was with B, but that's it. How are we supposed to prove she's really working for him? What if L's wrong?"

"I don't believe he is."

"But there's no evidence," said Matt, getting exasperated. "How can we know if he's right or wrong when we have nothing but his opinion to go by? There's no proof either way."

The white-haired boy picked up a toy airplane and began raising and dipping it through the air, apparently completely unconcerned by his companion's doubts. "L wouldn't form a theory without sufficient evidence."

Matt sighed in frustration and ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up oddly. Without really thinking, he stood and headed for the door.

Near looked up sharply.

"I'm just going out for a minute," the redhead explained. "Need some fresh air."

Near nodded once and went back to playing with his plane. Matt hesitated in front of the door, realizing what the white-haired boy had been concerned about. B had almost certainly given Blondie their descriptions. If one of them left the hotel and she saw them, she might try to kill them. That was probably the reason L said they should order all their food from room service, instead of going out to get it.

But Matt _had _to get outside. Now. And Vegas was a crowded place -- it was really unlikely Blondie would see him among the masses of tourists. It wasn't like she knew what hotel they were staying in. There was nothing to worry about.

Matt gave his companion a quick wave and left without another thought.

The instant the door closed behind him, Near looked up again, giving the innocent piece of wood a deeply suspicious look.

"Matt _hates _fresh air…"

* * *

The two minutes it took to walk down the hallway to the elevator, ride down to the ground floor, and walk out of the lobby were torturous for Matt. The instant he was out the front doors, he began searching his pockets feverishly, pulling out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes with a sigh of relief.

The moment he lit one and took a drag, all the tension melted out of his posture. Matt sighed again, exhaling smoke with a smile. He hadn't had a cigarette in over twelve hours -- the longest he'd gone without a fix since the day he started smoking over a year ago. He was addicted and he knew it, but right now he really didn't care.

Sneaking the lighter onto the plane hadn't been easy, but he'd thought it was vital -- after all, he hadn't known if he'd get a chance to sneak away from L and Near to buy a new one once he got to Vegas.

As he smoked, Matt observed the crowds of people going by. The Strip was _always _crowded, but as night fell, it went from being simply busy to being absolutely jam-packed. That was exactly what was happening now. It was twilight, and the darker it got, the more congested the sidewalk became.

Matt didn't know much about Vegas beyond the basics -- it was in the desert, it was packed full of casinos, there were lots of prostitutes, and the bright lights looked cool at night. He couldn't decide if he liked the place or not. You'd certainly never get bored here -- but everything felt fake. The girls, with their airbrushed tans and too-high heels. The landscape, an island of emerald grass and palm trees surrounded by parched brown dirt for miles in all directions. The casinos, with their illusions of grandeur. There was even a faux Eiffel tower and a replica of New York. It was a city of lies, of pretending. A city of fakes.

Realizing the pessimistic turn his thoughts had taken, Matt rolled his eyes, dropping his used-up cigarette to the ground and crushing it under his boot.

Normally, he was an optimist. A sarcastic one, but an optimist all the same. What was the point of getting depressed over useless crap like this? It had to be the nicotine withdrawal. He'd never go twelve hours without a smoke again.

_It's not like we'll be here long anyway, _he thought, turning to head back into the hotel. _A couple of weeks, and then --_

Matt froze. Then he whirled around, yanking his goggles down and searching the crowd with wide eyes.

A flash of bright yellow and gleaming black. He hadn't gotten a good look, just the slightest glimpse out of the corner of his eye, but…

The redhead scanned his surroundings, but there was no sign of the girl. She'd vanished into the masses, if she'd even been there at all. He was probably being paranoid. He must have imagined it. Even if he hadn't, there were tons of blondes in Vegas, and black leather wasn't as uncommon in this town as it was in other places.

But he'd been sure, absolutely _sure_, that the person he'd seen was the same height and build as the one in the surveillance video…

_There! That's her!_

He caught glimpses of her hair through gaps in the crowd. It practically glowed as she passed under a streetlight. She'd crossed over to the other side of the street and was walking away quickly.

Matt immediately set off in pursuit, shoving his way around everyone in his path. It was lucky the traffic signals were red, or he probably would've been run over as he ran across the road.

As he reached the sidewalk, he saw her again, and this time there was no doubt. She was the person in the video.

B's accomplice. He'd found her. That was easy. Entirely _too _easy…

"Hey!" he shouted, now less than thirty feet away. "Hey, stop --"

A gunshot rang out.

Matt dropped to the ground instinctively, heart racing, as hundreds of terrified screams erupted from the crowd. Everyone panicked. Some people did the same as Matt, getting down and shielding their heads, while others took off running, surging in all directions, rushing into the nearest buildings they could reach or dodging cars as they raced blindly across the street, pushing and shoving all the while.

It was pure chaos, and it only worsened when the first shot was followed by a second. More shrieks, more running. Then three more gunshots in rapid succession, almost drowned out by the yells and sobs of the fleeing crowd. Matt looked around in search of the gunman, but there was so much madness that it was impossible to tell exactly where the sounds were coming from.

His mind raced. Was it Blondie? Was she seriously trying to kill him here, with all these witnesses? But she'd certainly known he was chasing her, so why not just lead him to some less populated street and shoot him there? She wouldn't pull out a gun in the middle of the Strip, where cops were always seconds away. She was smarter than that. But if she wasn't the one shooting, then who _was_? And who the hell were they trying to kill?

Nearly a minute passed with no new gunfire, and the pandemonium finally began to die down. Numerous sirens blared in the distance, and the first police cars began arriving on the scene.

Matt quickly stood up, looking through the chaos toward the place he'd last seen B's successor.

Once again, she'd vanished without a trace.

* * *

A/N: Woohoo! The plot moves forward! And a bit of a cliffhanger, too.

Please tell me what you thought of this chapter. I'm not sure I'm happy with it. Reviews are wonderful things, and they make me write faster.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Gosh, I'm sorry for the wait, guys! This chapter gave me a massive case of writer's block (it didn't help that I was freaking out over Driver's Ed for a month, but it's over now and I passed, thank goodness!). I feel awful about the last chapter - it was so short and boring! So I'm trying to make up for it. Tell me if I succeed, okay? This is my favorite chapter so far, and the longest. I plan on making them all at least 4,000 words from now on.

And of course, thanks go out to everyone who reviewed. You're awesome!

Oh, and there's quite a bit of cursing in the first half of this one (well, it seems like a lot to me, but then again I hardly ever swear). It's hard to imagine Mello _not _swearing in a stressful situation, but I figured I should mention it just in case. This is rated T for a reason, y'know? ;)

Disclaimer: Death Note belongs to Ohba and Obata.

_The Follower's War_

_Chapter Three_

Mello should have known to be suspicious the moment he realized his plan was actually _working_.

After all, in the past six months, very few things in his life had gone the way he wanted them to, and just because he'd raised the stakes this time didn't mean his bad luck would go away.

But, for a few moments, it felt like things really were going well for once.

He really should have known better.

This part of the plan wasn't complicated. It was actually pretty damn simple. If he was right and L's successors knew what he looked like, then all he had to do was wait until Matt or Near came outside, and make sure they caught a glimpse of him. He was kind of hoping for Matt - there was a sixty-four percent chance Matt would try to chase after him, while Near was much more likely to stay put and call the police or something. Sixty four percent wasn't very high, really, but it was better than nothing. Once L's successor started following him, he'd lead him away from the Strip, into an alley where Mello's motorcycle waited.

His plan, in short, was to kidnap one of L's heirs.

And it nearly worked. He honestly would've succeeded. Matt was following him exactly as he'd planned, they were approaching the entrance to the alley… and then, just when things were finally working out…

_BANG!_

"Fuck!"" Mello's shout was lost amid the thousands of terrified shrieks from the tourists around him. He clutched the upper part of his left arm, which had been grazed by the bullet, and scrambled for cover behind a parked car. Damn, damn, _damn_! That freaking _hurt! _

But there was no time to worry about it. Mello let go of the wound, ignoring the blood that coated his gloved hand and dripped down his arm, and drew his gun.

He quickly scanned his surroundings, processing the situation. To hit a single target in such a huge, moving crowd would require amazing accuracy, which meant that shot probably wasn't fired by a handgun. Mello's eyes darted to the massive hotels lining the Strip, certain there had to be a sniper nearby, but it was too dark to tell, even with all the flashing neon lights. He stood up a little, peeking cautiously over the hood of the car.

A second shot was fired mere moments after the first, and Mello yelped, ducking behind the car again and shielding his head as the bullet shattered two of the windows.

_Shit_! Who the hell was shooting at _him_? And _here, _of all places!

Without knowing the shooter's position, he had no idea which way to run, but he had to move - if it was a sniper, staying still was a death sentence. There was only one thing to do, really.

Gun at the ready, Mello left his hiding place behind the car and raced toward the alley where he'd parked his bike.

Three more shots rang out, adding to the pandemonium. He actually felt one of the bullets stir his hair, barely missing his head as he ran, and saw it hit the wall as he made it to the alley entrance.

But now he knew the shots were coming from the opposite side of the street, behind and to the right, and once he rounded the corner into the alley, he was out their sight.

Mello ran down the alley and practically jumped onto his sleek black motorcycle, and grabbing the keys from where he'd tucked them down the side of one of his combat boots. He revved the engine, trying to ignore the searing pain in his arm and the blood he could feel running down to his hand. He'd deal with it later - right now he just had to get the hell out of here.

He followed the alley until it ran into a back road. This was the route he'd meant to take after kidnapping L's successor, and he had it memorized. Mello completely disregarded the speed limit, taking a corner so fast his knee nearly touched the pavement and then accelerating to over a hundred miles an hour. Going this fast made it impossible for anyone to follow him discreetly, and he wasn't worried about being pulled over by a cop; they would all be busy dealing with the chaos on the Strip.

This route didn't lead to his apartment, of course - if there was someone after him, someone brave or dumb enough to open fire in the middle of the Strip, there was no way he could go back to his apartment. It was too dangerous.

He wasn't very fond of the place anyway, and it was rented under an alias (Mello was only seventeen, after all). He hadn't planned on going back there after kidnapping one of L's successors. He probably _could _have; it was in one of Vegas' shittiest neighborhoods, famed for drug dealers and murders, the sort of place where his neighbors would never notice (or give a damn) if he brought home a prisoner. But his crappy apartment was just too small to keep a captive in.

However, the group of mobsters he'd been working with these last few months had the perfect place in the basement of their headquarters downtown, and he'd struck a deal with them. There were _thousands _of criminals out there who'd pay good money to get their hands on anyone connected closely to L, and these guys were no different.

Their deal was simple: Mello brought them one of L's successors, they provided a place for him to keep his prisoner, and when Mello didn't need the successor anymore, he'd hand him over to the mobsters in exchange for fifty grand.

That was northing compared to the price on _L's _head, of course, but fifty thousand dollars was a lot of money to Mello. He wouldn't get a penny of it now, though, and that wasn't the worst part. The money was just a bonus, really - something he didn't really care about, but it would've been nice to have. He wasn't going to kidnap L's heir for the _money_.

It was for B.

But that whole plan was _ruined _now. From now on, L's successors would be more cautious; they'd certainly stay indoors, and L might even send guards to protect them. Hell, he'd probably have them halfway back to England by sunrise.

_Ruined. _

God-fucking-_damn _it. It had all been for _nothing_…

Whatever bastard had decided to shoot at him tonight, when everything was finally going according to plan - it was _his _fault, whoever he was.

The motorcycle's engine growled as Mello accelerated even faster, weaving through slow traffic and scowling. The list of people with grudges against him was a very long list indeed, but this had to be someone so psychotic and enraged that they'd risk trying to kill him in the middle of the busiest street in Vegas.

That criteria shorted the list significantly. But he'd been so sure he'd covered his tracks when he left LA after B's arrest… How had they found him?

_Doesn't matter, _Mello thought viciously. _I can ask him myself when I've got a gun pressed to his head. Right before I put a bullet in his skull. Whoever he is, he's going to PAY._

_

* * *

_

"You're absolutely certain?"

Matt nodded wearily. "Yeah. It was definitely the same girl from the surveillance footage. Even had the same outfit, minus the jacket."

There was silence for a moment. The redhead shifted, thinking of the lighter and box of cigarettes in his pocket. He really, _really _wanted to smoke. Or to get lost in his crimson DS Lite, which was sitting on the coffee table. But neither of those things was an option right now - not when L was grilling him for every detail about his near-fatal encounter with Beyond's… whatever she was.

Matt had returned to Near's suite after slipping through the lines of policemen who were trying to control the chaos and round up potential witnesses. Now his computer sat open on the coffee table next to the DS, displaying the familiar white background and gothic letter L that represented the video connection to their mentor. L could see them, but they couldn't see him - the connection was one-way, for security reasons. The two teens sat on the couch, while in the background, their six televisions were all displaying live reports about the shooting.

"I think she knows where we're staying," Matt added. "The one time I went out, she _happened _to be walking past our hotel. It can't be a coincidence."

"I will have Watari make arrangements to have you escorted to a different hotel tomorrow," said L. "For now, continue describing the confrontation. Did you see what type of gun she used?"

"She wasn't the one shooting," said Matt.

Near shifted, looking as close to surprised as he ever got, and judging by L's silence, Matt guessed he was a little taken aback as well.

"Like I said earlier, I was following her when it started. She was about thirty feet ahead of me when the first shot went off. But all the gunfire came from my right, across the street. Not where she was."

Near began twisting a lock of curly hair around his finger, thinking deeply. "I didn't expect that… The most likely explanation is that she -"

"- has an accomplice of her own," Matt finished at the same moment, sitting up. "Of _course_. She was a distraction. She had someone else waiting with a gun further down the street, and once she lured me to them…"

He and Near stared at each other, then simultaneously turned to the computer.

"Keep in mind that this is merely a theory," L cautioned them. "If Beyond's accomplice has a helper, or more than one, it certainly complicates matters. But it is equally possible that the shooting does not involve her at all. There are many people out there who would leap at the chance to kill L's heirs if they knew of your existence. If B told the girl about the House, she may have passed the information on to other people - there is a good possibility she simply sold it to the highest bidder. With the two of you distracted by other enemies, her chances of getting away with her crimes rise significantly."

His successors nodded.

"Whether the attempt on your life today was set up by her or not, the fact remains that you were very nearly killed, Matt-kun. This case is becoming far more dangerous than I predicted. If either of you do not wish to continue, you may return to Winchester immediately, and I will pursue Beyond's heir myself."

There was silence.

"I do not wish to leave," stated Near.

Matt could sense L looking at him through the laptop's webcam, waiting for his answer. It was a very uncomfortable feeling. He knew the detective was thinking of the conversation they'd had on the night he and Near had arrived. L knew Matt didn't want to be here. He was offering him a way out. But…

Near was staying. Child-like, introverted _Near _was brave enough to stick around even though there might be dozens of criminals out there hunting for them right now.

Matt frowned. They were over their heads. They didn't have the slightest clue about Blondie's plan, and now he'd been _shot at _by some mysterious gunman. He had every reason to get the hell out of here while he still could. However, if he left, and Near stayed, and got killed… The younger boy might be an obnoxious little bastard sometimes, but Matt couldn't just leave him to face B's accomplice alone. Who knew what kind of freak that psychopath had teamed up with?

"I'm staying too," said Matt firmly.

"Your dedication is admirable. However, if either of you change your mind, you may call me at any time," said L. "For now… Matt-kun, please hack into and make copies of any surveillance footage from traffic cameras that may have video of the shooters or Beyond's accomplice. I'm certain the Las Vegas police and possibly several federal agencies will be searching for the shooter, but for now you will not be involved with their investigation. I, however, will follow it closely. Please be ready to move to a new location tomorrow morning. I will send a team to assist you. And do not venture out again without consulting me first."

"I won't," Matt said, disliking the feeling of being berated like a misbehaving child. L _was _the one who'd left them here alone, after all, and he'd never told them not to go outside.

Well, Matt would _have _to get out again somehow - if not to smoke, then to go buy some nicotine gum or something to get him through the withdrawals. That was really going to suck.

"Is that all for now, L?" Near asked.

"For the moment, yes," L's voice was slightly muffled. Probably eating cake, Matt thought. "Report your findings to me when you're finished. We will discuss your next move then."

Both teens nodded. L shut off the video link, and his logo disappeared from the laptop screen, leaving Matt's striped wallpaper behind.

The redhead sighed, pulling the computer into his lap. "Better get to work, I guess."

Near nodded, climbing off the couch and moving to a small pyramid constructed of over a dozen boxes of the black and white dice he was so fond of. While Matt typed away at the computer, the white-haired boy opened the top box and began building a tower out of the dice themselves. It helped to clear his mind and organize his thoughts about the case, and for the next nine minutes, that was what he did.

Then Matt abruptly burst into laughter, and Near jumped about a foot, sending dice scattering in all directions as he accidentally knocked over his tower.

Matt was laughing so hard he could hardly speak. "H-Holy _crap _- Near - oh my God, you've got to see this!"

Frowning, the younger boy approached the couch. Matt tried, and failed, to stifle his chuckles, setting the laptop on the coffee table so Near could see. He paused the surveillance video he'd been watching and started it again from the beginning.

"This is the shooting," he explained, still grinning widely, as he pressed Play.

Near gave him an odd look. "Watching himself be shot at amuses Matt?" he questioned.

"No, no," Matt waved a gloved hand impatiently. "Just watch. You'll see."

The quality of this footage was far superior to that of the other video they'd been shown last night. It was crisp, clear, and in color. Near peered at the screen. Massive crowds of people were making their way up and down the sidewalk.

"There's our suspect," said Matt, zooming in on the bottom right corner of the screen.

Beyond's accomplice was walking casually, practically right beneath the camera; they were looking down at the top of her head. Then, before Near could ask Matt if there were any images of her face, perhaps from a different camera, she doubled over clutching her arm as everyone around her began running. Near watched with wide eyes as she took cover behind a car and drew a gun, blood running down her pale arm. She hardly seemed to notice, instead looking around rapidly, looking _up, _most likely at the surrounding buildings. Whatever the cause, it gave them a clear image of her face. That would be extremely useful -

The second shot shattered the back windows of the car, showering her in glass, and then she broke away from her cover and took off running, disappearing from the camera's view.

Matt was still chuckling. "Notice anything?" he asked.

"Yes," said Near thoughtfully. "If she were allied with the shooter, why did they fire at _her_?"

The redhead blinked. "That's a good point, but that's not what I meant. Here," he rewound the video and paused it. "_Now _d'you notice anything?"

Near merely looked at him in confusion.

Matt sighed.

"That other video sucked so much - and with that haircut, we all kind of just _assumed _- I mean, well, can't you tell? Isn't the flat chest kind of obvious? B's accomplice is a _guy, _Near." He grinned again as the younger boy blinked in surprise. " All day we've been referring to him as 'she'… This is _hilarious_."

Near began twisting his hair again, staring at the boy on computer screen. He could think of nothing to say in reply.

That was a first.

Matt continued snickering. "I'll check the footage from the other cameras in the area; maybe we can find the shooter. Then I'll email L the image that shows Blondie's face - he has access to every facial recognition database on the planet, and he'll probably run it through all of them."

_Blondie? _thought Near, raising one white eyebrow as he returned to his ruined dice tower. Had Matt _really _given their enemy a _nickname? _

Speaking of the blonde… L had been right. He hadn't been leading Matt into a trap. _He _was the one who was almost killed. There was no doubt B's accomplice was a criminal - a murderer, probably involved with the mafia. That would surely have earned him at least a few enemies. But to open fire in the middle of one of the busiest, most policed streets in the country? That was reckless_ - _no, it was positively _stupid_. It didn't sound like something the mob would authorize. But if not them, then whom?

Did it matter? This meant there was someone out there willing to risk everything for the chance to kill Beyond's accomplice. If he and Matt could somehow make contact with this person… perhaps they could come to an understanding.

L himself had teamed up with criminals before to catch other, more dangerous criminals. And just because they would be working with this person did not mean they had to meet him face to face, or put themselves in any danger. If they could simply discover the shooter's identity, all of the arrangements and agreements could be made from the safety of their hotel rooms.

Yes, the person trying to kill Beyond's accomplice would be a very good ally indeed…

Meanwhile, Matt yawned and glanced at the clock on his computer screen, having just emailed the blonde's photo to their mentor. "We can watch the rest of the surveillance footage in the morning," he decided. "I don't know about you, but the time difference really threw me off. I'm exhausted."

Near couldn't help but agree. The eight hour difference between Winchester and Las Vegas was very disorienting, and he _was _quite tired… There was virtually nothing they could do about the case tonight that couldn't be accomplished in the morning instead.

Matt grabbed his laptop and DS. "'Night, Near."

"Goodnight, Matt."

The redhead's suite was directly across the hall. He stepped inside, turned on the lights, and locked the door behind him - something he hadn't bothered to do last night.

But today… he'd never been in a situation where he feared for his life before today. Of course, he knew now that the bullets hadn't been aimed at him. He hadn't really been in danger. There was no mysterious assassin lurking outside, waiting to murder L's heirs. He and Near were safe.

Matt frowned, opening his laptop and taking a seat on the couch.

He hadn't lied to Near about how exhausted he felt, but he knew there was no way he'd be able to sleep right now. He really just wanted a chance to get away from Near and gather his thoughts.

Matt brought up the surveillance footage again, this time from a different camera about thirty feet down the street from the first. He watched, frowning even more deeply as his own mop of messy red hair came into view, weaving and shoving through the crowd, chasing after a bob of bright yellow further ahead.

He couldn't believe how idiotic he'd been. The moment he'd seen Blondie, he'd forgotten that he was out alone in a foreign city, chasing blindly after an enemy he knew almost nothing about. The only thing he _did _know about Blondie was that he was dangerous, a killer, and yet Matt had rushed after him without a thought.

What the hell had he been thinking?

_I wasn't, _Matt admitted, watching people scatter on his computer screen as the source of his frustration ducked behind a blue Toyota. _I didn't think at all. I just… ran. I didn't even consider what I'd do once I caught up with him. _

Well, now he'd never know, and he was lucky. Judging by that sleek silver semi-automatic, Leather-Fetish Barbie probably would have shot him.

Whoever the guy was, he could obviously take care of himself. Matt wondered if he'd managed to escape, or if the shooter had caught up with him and ended things. Although, if Blondie turned up dead, it _would _simplify matters for he and Near. They could go back to Winchester and just forget this whole mess ever happened.

In Matt's opinion, anyone who worked with B was someone to avoid at all costs. The man was _crazy, _and obviously Blondie was too.

But he couldn't help but wonder how they'd ever met in the first place. How had B managed to find someone like that, someone so much like himself, someone he thought was capable of outsmarting L's heirs?

As for Blondie… what made someone like him decide to team up with a serial killer?

Matt looked at his laptop, thinking of the photo he'd emailed to L - their rival's face, as he was looking for the person trying to shoot him, holding a gun in one hand with blood dripping down the other.

Maybe soon they'd have a name to go with that face.

* * *

A/N: Kind of a cliffhanger ending… sorry about that. I didn't mean to give you another one, but it was the last chance to end it without adding another couple thousand words.

And now you know what Mello's original plan was. I can't wait 'til he and Matt finally come face-to-face. That'll be fun to write. XD

What did you think of this chapter? Boring, interesting, good, bad, so terrible it scarred you for life? Let me know!


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